When the room lights flickered back on, Li Xin sighed and rubbed his knee, feeling a bit aggrieved. Yu Suheng, meanwhile, stood by the operating table with a cold face, saying nothing.
This was the first time Li Xin had been “injured” since entering the dungeon. The impact of Yu Suheng’s knee hadn’t been gentle, and the pain made Li Xin grimace. The culprit himself, having risen from the floor, remained silent, acting as if Li Xin didn’t exist.
The atmosphere in the room was strange. Li Xin blinked, subconsciously touching the gemstone dangling by his ear, pondering Yu Suheng’s reaction. Honestly, since waking up, Li Xin hadn’t paid much attention to the items on his person—not out of indifference, but because their existence felt like a matter of course. It was as if they were meant to be there, needing no justification.
Just moments ago, after noticing Yu Suheng staring at him for a long time, Li Xin had seen a complex expression cross the other man’s face as his gaze dropped to the earring. The comment had slipped out before Li Xin could filter it.
Well, loose lips sink ships, he thought. One really shouldn’t act without engaging the brain.
Li Xin reflected deeply on his behavior. Before he could figure out why Yu Suheng was angry, the cold voice broke the silence: “Don’t just stand there. What are you doing here?”
Li Xin didn’t answer, attempting to evoke guilt by playing the victim; he sat in the chair, rubbing his knee until it was nearly raw.
Yu Suheng clearly wasn’t buying it. Seeing this, he couldn’t help but grit his teeth: “…Are you trying to lose the other leg, too?”
Li Xin: …What a heartless person.
He decisively dropped his leg, crossed them, and leaned back into the chair, answering in a wilted tone: “I’m on duty. Just doing a patrol, and I happened to catch a bad kid who wouldn’t sleep after lights out.”
Bad kid Yu Suheng: …Do you think I believe that? Who patrols a school by wandering into the infirmary?
Given Li Xin’s track record, Yu Suheng didn’t believe a word of it. He understood Li Xin; in their current state, every sentence out of his mouth was a mix of truth and lies.
“Tell the truth.”
Listening to Yu Suheng’s assertive tone, Li Xin couldn’t help but laugh. He lifted his head, his beautiful eyes shining unnaturally bright in the light.
“Don’t you trust me? Then why bother asking?” Li Xin’s gaze softened with a hint of curiosity. He paused, as if realizing something, and stared straight into those calm eyes. Though phrased as a question, his tone was certain: “Or… are you hoping to judge something based on my answer?”
As difficult to fool as ever.
Yu Suheng looked down at him. Even with his memories gone, this man remained terrifyingly sharp. Realizing this, Yu Suheng knew he shouldn’t say anything unnecessary. Ignoring Li Xin’s probing, he shifted the topic: “Since you’re here, I’m suffering from insomnia tonight. I wanted to clear my head, so I’m not going back to sleep.”
Li Xin raised an eyebrow. He knew Yu Suheng was referencing the rule that students must report to a duty teacher if they leave the dormitory after lights out. However, the tone was hardly a request, and Teacher Li was very dissatisfied with this attitude.
“Why should I agree to that?” Li Xin spread his hands in an expression of great difficulty: “A five or six-year-old child should be sleeping soundly. You acting like this makes things very difficult for the teacher.”
Yu Suheng couldn’t be bothered with him. “Have you ever seen a five or six-year-old child in evening study until 11:00 PM?”
“That’s exactly why the remaining sleep time is even more important,” Li Xin said with a pained, helpless expression. “Sleep deprivation will stunt your growth.”
Yu Suheng: …Thanks, I’m disgusted. Also, I’m 184cm (6’0″), I don’t need to grow any taller.
This scene successfully triggered some memories of unbearable past experiences in Yu Suheng’s mind. Truly, if this man were set on being a nuisance, few people could talk their way out of it. Yu Suheng stared straight at Li Xin, who wore an expression of complete indifference, his face thick enough to be impenetrable.
After a long while, Yu Suheng chose to abandon this fruitless debate, lest he be led into the other’s train of thought—Li Xin was far too skilled at that.
Exhaling, Yu Suheng resumed his usual cold expression, his voice devoid of fluctuation: “I think you had better agree to my request, otherwise I’m not sure if you’ll be able to keep your identity hidden until tomorrow.”
“Oh? Have we reached the threat stage already?” Li Xin didn’t try to hide his identity; he even tilted his head, entirely unbothered, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “I thought we were chatting quite pleasantly.”
This time, Yu Suheng offered no response to his verbal jab. He stepped toward the man and looked down at the unchanging mask on his face. “It doesn’t count as a threat. You can take it as cooperation.”
Li Xin instinctively wanted to retort, but was interrupted by Yu Suheng, who covered his mouth as if predicting his move.
The cool sensation on his lips left him slightly distracted, and by the time he realized what had happened, he had already lost the initiative.
“Don’t bother trying to lie to me with clumsy excuses. You’re here to find something, too.” Yu Suheng sneered as he said this. Since one hand was still covering Li Xin’s mouth, he leaned over, his other hand pressing against Li Xin’s chest. His aggressive face was uncomfortably close.
After being mesmerized for a mere instant by the eyes inches away, Li Xin tried to speak, but upon realizing it was indeed difficult, he gave up the debate and signaled with his eyes: How do you figure?
“I suspect you’ve also noticed that we have very few clues in this game. The rules push us forward with almost no time to breathe. But your identity has a natural advantage. With your personality, you won’t sit around waiting for death, but you aren’t in a desperate rush, either.”
Normally, given Li Xin’s love for watching the chaos unfold, he would likely be on the third floor where the student dorms were, not in the infirmary he had already explored.
Yu Suheng scrutinized Li Xin’s expression, cutting to the heart of the matter: “You’ve run into trouble. Your situation is even more dangerous than those of us who are ‘students’.”
Li Xin’s expression finally shifted. He looked up into those deep, close-up eyes and laughed helplessly after a long silence.
The vibration from his chest against Yu Suheng’s fingertips made the other man’s eyelashes flutter. Li Xin reached up and gripped the wrist of the hand covering his mouth, feeling no resistance, and guided it back to his own neck. In an instant, Yu Suheng realized the pulse there was erratic.
“Can you feel it? There’s something extra there, though I’m not sure what it is,” Li Xin laughed nonchalantly. “Congratulations, you guessed right.”
Yu Suheng felt no joy; on the contrary, he was now in a terrible mood. However, his displeasure was perfectly masked by his cold face, and even Li Xin couldn’t distinguish it from his usual demeanor.
“I agree to your proposal. We are now partners in crime.” Li Xin flicked the man’s fingers, entirely unbothered by the bizarre posture they were in. “So, partner, do you have any suggestions?”
Yu Suheng didn’t answer; he withdrew his hand and returned to the operating table. He didn’t hesitate this time; a sharp edge sliced his fingertip, and bright red blood flowed along the grooves, quickly circling the rim.
Click.
A hidden door popped inward, revealing a square gap.
Li Xin leaned over and stroked his chin: “Just as expected—a horror movie staple. What do you think is inside?”
“Don’t know.” Yu Suheng lowered his eyes. “I originally just wanted to cause a commotion to draw the school doctor out.”
Li Xin understood: “You wanted to check the previous students’ medical records?”
Yu Suheng didn’t answer, treating it as an admission.
“That might be hard to find.” Li Xin recalled the items in the infirmary office. “Most of the materials on the doctor’s desk are medical and psychology texts. He hid the most important things among those useless, voluminous pages. It’ll be difficult to find anything in a short time.”
Li Xin’s assessment made Yu Suheng frown. He never doubted this man’s intelligence, but this meant his desire for a quick resolution might be impossible to achieve.
“Though, it’s not entirely hopeless…” Li Xin chuckled, but just as he was about to continue, a faint sound, like gears clashing, echoed.
“Wait, Yu Suheng.” Li Xin frowned deeply, looking down to meet Yu Suheng’s gaze, a bad premonition washing over him.
“Too late.”
Yu Suheng’s voice remained flat. As a red alarm light began to whirl in the room and a shrill siren erupted, he stepped back, barely having enough time to grab the iron box from the compartment and stuff it into his pocket.
Under the flashing lights, Li Xin looked up and sighed: “That’s actually great. Your original goal might be accomplished after all.”
He was referring to Yu Suheng’s plan to draw the doctor out, though under the current circumstances, it sounded entirely sarcastic.
“Talking nonsense is a waste of time. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’d like to, but that seems a bit difficult now.” Li Xin tapped the door behind him. Seeing the other’s questioning look, he introduced it with a smug air of superiority: “Titanium alloy door. It locks automatically when the alarm sounds. No internal lock cylinder; it can only be opened from the outside.”
Oh, screw you.
Pushing the obstructive person aside, Yu Suheng tried to twist the handle; it didn’t budge. Li Xin shrugged, his meaning clear: Didn’t I tell you?
Footsteps could already be heard outside. Li Xin dropped his joking expression and grabbed Yu Suheng, pulling him toward himself. Yu Suheng didn’t dodge, merely looking at him with a silent query: What the hell is wrong with you?
A little too easy to read.
Li Xin curled his lips, lowering his voice: “Play along. Whether we both get punished or not depends on this next moment.”
Yu Suheng went silent for a moment, but he didn’t refute him.
Thus, when the grim, excited-looking school doctor pushed open the door, he was greeted by the following scene:
The teacher he hated seeing the most was brazenly ransacking his beloved medical kit. The teacher held a roll of bandage, speaking in a tone so gentle it was physiologically repulsive to hear: “Yuyu, does the wound still hurt? Don’t move, teacher will bandage it for you.”
And the student, whose face was cold enough to freeze, was staring blankly as he extended a finger. The school doctor peered at it for a long time before finally locating a wound the size of a single hair.
School Doctor: …………
Fck! Are you people crazy?!*